The True Lies of a Fullmetal Alchemist
by Avenging-Hobbits
Summary: A Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood styled adaptation of James Cameron's True Lies, Edward Elric is a top agent for an elite group of highly trained special operatives working for the Amestrian government, and their "last line of defense". His wife however, one Winry Rockbell, thinks he's simply a mild-mannered banker. Winry resents the long "business trips" he takes, which make it


_**Chapter One:**_

_**Chapter Plot Points:**_

Ed, Al and Ling are introduced, and given the documents that inform them of their mission

Upon arrival at Focke's home, Ling and Al step out of the van, and slip into the party. They split up, trying to pick up as much information as possible. While Ling is busy investigating, Edward bumps into Solaris, who seems instantly attracted to him. They briefly talk, with Edward discovering that she is an Ishvalan antiques collector, supposedly there to speak to Focke about some high price paintings. They trade banter and all, and Solaris gives him her business card, seemingly just to talk at a later date.

"Hey, Ed?"

Edward glanced towards his brother, who sat a few inches away, huddled in front of a rather complex array of radios and gizmos in the cramped interior of the van.

"What is it, Al?" Edward asked, turning back to the mix of photographs and intelligence documents that lay spread out before him on the small fold out table.

"How come I'm never allowed on a mission with you?"

Edward paused, raising an eyebrow slightly. "What? Al, you're with me on a mission right now. You always come along."

Alphonse shrugged, twiddling with a random knob on the radio. "No, I mean on a mission. Like, in the field type mission. I mean, sure I come along in the van, but I never leave it. Its like a big metal body for me or something. Its kinda boring."

Edward scoffed. "Oh come on, Alphonse, its not that bad. Anyways, you're never the one getting shot at, so I think that's an advantage right?"

"The only reason you get shot at so much is because you just can't resist a fight." Alphonse replied matter of factly, causing Edward to give him a glare.

"That's not true! I have great self control."

Alphonse simply responded with a knowing look, before looking down at his pocket watch, before doing his best to stand up from his position, hunching down to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. "Better check for Ling." He muttered, as Edward scrunched up as best he could against the small fold out table.

"He back yet?" Edward grunted, moving back from the table and rubbing the now sore spot on his stomach as Alphonse made is way to the front seat of the van, awkwardly sliding into the seat and peering through the windows. Alphonse shook his head slightly, peeking out towards the building they were parked across from.

"No, I don't see him. He said he'd be back in fifteen minutes..."

Edward pulled out his own, lion-adorned pocket watch, popping it open with a click. "And its been twenty," he let out a sharp scoff, standing up and shuffling over to sit next to Alphonse in the front. "Typical lazy Ling. Always late." He muttered, crossing his arms and scrunching up the fur edge of his coat.

"Cold?" Alphonse asked, wrapping his own arms around his body, scrunching up his sweater as he did so. Edward nodded, rubbing his gloved hands together vigorously.

"Yes. Very much. Why they don't have heaters for cars yet is beyond me."

Alphonse shrugged. "I heard they're working on it in R&D. But its still very much a prototype."

"Prototype or not, I'd love to get this thing fitted with one." Edward replied, huffing slightly into his hands again. Alphonse shook his head.

"I heard it blew up one of the cars they put it in when they tested it. Probably not a good idea." He glanced down at Edward's arm. "How's your arm? Has it seized up yet?"

Edward shook his head. "Not yet, no."

There was a lull of silence between the two brothers, each of them watching the building across the street closely. The only sounds was their own breathing, the occasional huff and puff from one of them as they warmed their hands, the ticking of their pocket watches and the icy winter breeze outside the van. Snow covered the ground in a white sheet, and every once and a while, another car would glide by, and the two would tense up slightly, Alphonse's hand reaching for the key, and Edward placing his hands together. However, the cars would always move on, seemingly unawares of the van and its passengers.

As the watches continued to tick, Edward began tapping his foot on the floor of the van, the metallic thump ringing through the body of the vehicle. As time passed, the tapping became sharper and faster, Edward's face contorted into a grimace.

"Oh come on! Where is he!" He barked, throwing his hands up in the air. "What's he doing?! Counting snowflakes or something?!"

"No, but close guess." Came a slightly muffled nasally voice, causing both Edward and Alphonse to let out screams of terror, their arms yanking each other into a vice like hug. The lanky Xingese man standing outside let out a laugh, tapping on the window and motioning towards the lock. Edward glared at him as he unlocked the door, swinging it open with force.

"What's your problem Ling?! Why'd you take so damn long?!"

Ling shrugged. "Suppose I didn't feel a need to rush, short stuff." He nonchalantly motioned for Ed to get out of the passengers chair, which only caused Edward's grimace to reach near planet destroying levels.

"DON'T CALL ME SHORT STUFF!" Edward shrieked, waving his arms theatrically. "Now get in the van!" He added angrily, sharply pointing to the back of the van.

Ling smug expression faded somewhat, his already narrow eyes becoming like slits as he turned and walked over to the back of the van, opening the back door and slamming it behind him.

"Did you get the papers we need?" Alphonse asked, turning the key in the ignition, causing the van to cough to life. As he began to drive it smoothly down the road, Ling reached into the briefcase he had had slung over his shoulder, pulling out several official looking documents.

"Here we are," he began to leaf through them, pausing every so often to give them a quick scan. "We've got you an ID, a passport, and our briefings." As Ling spoke, he passed a set of papers forward to Edward. Another set of papers went back into the briefcase, and another was put on the small fold out table, the other photos and documents that had been sitting there before being put back in the folder from whence they came.

"The one's I put in the briefcase are yours, okay Al?" Ling said, putting the folder in the briefcase and folding up the table, keeping his own papers on his lap.

Alphonse nodded, apparently too focused on the road to answer. Edward meanwhile, carefully leafed through the papers, reading them carefully.

"So, first things first, Ling, what took you so long?" Edward asked, still reading. Ling shrugged slightly, reading his own papers.

"Was talking with our lady who gave us the information."

Edward rolled his eyes. "Of course you were Ling," he turned, looking behind his seat. "What were you talking about? A novel or something?"

Ling just shrugged again. "Nah, mostly just random things. Had to, you know. Or else someone might suspect," he looked up from his papers and smiled. "Better to make small talk and pretend like we're old friends then just bump into each other right?"

Edward merely lowered his eyebrows and returned to reading his paper. "Whatever. You had us worried there a for bit."

Alphonse nodded. "Yeah, thought someone might have found you out or worse..."

Ling shrugged again, his grin growing roguish. "Not my fault the ladies can't resist me."

Both Alphonse and Edward let out a groan, Edward actively facepalming. He let his hand flop back down on the papers before returning to the task at hand.

"So Central wants us to crash this Focke guy's party? Any reason why?" He asked, paging through the documents. Alphonse raised an eyebrow, briefly glancing down at Edward's papers.

"Focke? You mean Vought Focke, the philanthropist right?" he paused, furrowing his eyebrows. "Didn't we bug that place awhile back?"

Edward nodded. "Yeah, that one," His finger ran down the paper, carefully seeking out any useful information. "Oh here we are. Apparently Central bugged his home a few months back because he's suspected of hosting some sort of illegal arms bidding deal. But apparently they want us to sneak in and see what's going on there in the flesh."

Ling raised his eyebrows. "Well that explains the fake IDs," he pulled out a small card with his face, along with a name, birthdate and several other pieces of information. "Apparently, I'm supposed to be a Xingese mobster."

"And I'm an apparently going to be an Amestrian one." Edward added, leafing through his own ID papers. "Seems my boss doesn't like to make personal appearances."

"What about me then? Do I get a cover?" Alphonse asked with a touch of hope. Edward shrugged, reached behind his seat to beckon for the briefcase, which Ling nudged forwards. Edward searched through it, fishing out a bundle of papers with Alphonse's name on it. He opened them, giving them a quick scan. He frowned.

"No, I don't see anything special for you. Sorry, Al." He gave Alphonse a sympathetic look, and Alphonse let his shoulders sag.

"No, its okay. Guess I'm staying in the van again huh?"

Ling shrugged. "Suppose so."

Edward nodded, giving his brother a pat on the back. "Don't worry. Upside is that you get to sit around while we do the hard work."

Alphonse rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I guess sitting around and doing nothing has its perks," he let out a quiet laugh, before motioning towards Edward's paper. "You two better get your research done. Don't want to flub like last time with the Drachma guys."

Edward held up a hand. "Now hold on, Al, wasn't my fault the charges didn't go off in time. Anyways," he crossed his arms. "I wasn't the one in charge of the explosives. Ling was."

"Not my fault you drew an oval instead of a circle. Your alchemy is funny like that." Ling chimed in, still reading his papers. Edward let out a grunt.

"Whatever. Point being, this is probably going to be much easier than Drachma." He said, leaning against the window. Alphonse simply shook his head, turning onto a main road and joining the stream of traffic.

/

The van pulled up behind the rather simple, yet elegant hedge that separated the property of Mr. Focke's home from the rest of the surrounding area. However, the hedge was a good ten feet high, and capped with snow, therefore preventing the trio from seeing over the edge.

"What do you suppose is behind that hedge?" Ling asked, peering forward from his seat.

"Dunno." Edward said, "But I'm gonna take a look." he added, popping open the door of the van and clambering up onto the roof. Once on top of the roof of the van, he looked back over the fence, greeted by the sight of what looked like a cleared out field area, where, parked in orderly lines, were prestigious looking automobiles of various makes and models, all standing out in sharp contrast to the rather plain looking van.

"Well, what do you see?" Alphonse asked, leaning out of the window and looking up at Edward.

"It looks like a bunch limos." Edward replied, before clambering down from the roof. "I have a feeling we aren't exactly going to blend in." he added, slouching back into his seat and pulling his coat a little tighter around himself.

"So it's some kind of parking lot?" Ling asked, and Edward nodded.

"Yup. Not a van in sight. They'd spot us in a heartbeat." He answered, scanning the surrounding area for a more suitable place to park the van. As he scanned, he caught sight of several plain looking vehicles turning around a corner up ahead. Printed on the side, in large, colorful letters, were the logos of various food catering companies.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Edward asked, a smile spreading across his face. Alphonse looked at the other vans, nodding his head and smiling.

"Yeah."

"Of course!" Ling chimed in. "I'm starving!"

Edward narrowed his eyes. "No. Time to make ourselves blend in."

With that, the two brothers opened their respective doors, stepping out onto the opposite sides of the van. Grabbing a nearby stick off the ground, Alphonse quickly drew a simple transmutation circle, before going around again to double check it.

"Okay, we're good." Alphonse said, reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a pair of simple white gloves, upon which were inscribed transmutation symbols. Edward nodded, mimicking the action and pulling out his own gloves.

Rubbing their hands together, they both clapped their hands, before placing them on the sides of the van. There was a flash of light, and when it cleared, printed on the side of the van, in bright red letters, were the words "Mignogna's Food and Drink"

"Yeah, that looks good." Edward said, proudly crossing his arms. He was quick to hop back in the van along with Alphonse.

"Ready Al?"

Alphonse nodded. "Ready."

"Then let's do this." Edward replied, motioning for Alphonse to start the car again. They pulled away from the main road, following after the other vans as they went around the back of the mansion. Edward hoped that they would be able to slip past the guards, but his hopes were dashed when one of them, a lanky fellow with glasses, waved him down to stop.

Okay, time to improvise. he thought, nodding slightly at Alphonse, who cleared his throat.

"Is this going to take long?" Alphonse asked, turning to the guard and doing his best to appear innocent as the guard regarded him. "This stuff won't keep forever, you know."

"Sorry for the delay," the guard said, producing a small list. "But your... company doesn't appear to be on the list of caterers Mr. Focke scheduled for this event."

"Oh, he must have forgotten then," Edward said, chiming in and smiling wildly. "It was a last minute arrangement and all. We did speak with her party planner on the phone, however."

The guard narrowed his eyes, lifting an eyebrow slightly and flashing his lamp into the van just as Ling pulled the curtain across, covering the back.

"What's behind the curtain?"

"Our chef. He's really busy right now." Alphonse responded, once more smiling widely. The guard, however, did not seem convinced.

"I'm going to need to see some identification," he said. Alphonse and Edward exchanged a glance before the elder brother shrugged.

"Okay, fair enough," he said, reaching into his pocket to appear as if he was searching for ID. "I'd just hate to see how Mr. Focke reacts when we don't show up on time. I mean, I've heard he's willing to listen to reason, so maybe we can get her to go easy on... what's your name again?"

"Miranda." The guard answered after a pause, his voice having lost it's prior sternness somewhat.

"Well, like I said, it'd be a shame," Edward continued, shaking his head slightly. "We catered his last party at his summer home, you see, and well, suffice to say that gators tend to enjoy the taste of security guards."

The guard's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and he was quick to flick his light off and motion for them to continue.

"My sincerest apologies, you may continue on your way." he added hastily. Alphonse gave an exaggerated thumbs up, and the van drove forwards and through the gate. Edward glanced in the rear view mirror, watching as the figures of the guards grew smaller.

"That was lucky of us." Alphonse said, giving Edward a glance as the van came to a stop. "I take it you're gonna keep this caterer bit up?"

Edward shook his head. "Only just until we get inside. Then me and Ling will use what Central gave us."

"Okay then," Alphonse said, turning the van off and heading towards the back. "I'll get the radio ready just in case I have to call Central."

"Sure thing." Edward said, pulling asides the curtain and motioning for Ling, who had hadn't said a word since they disguised the van. The duo quietly stepped out of the car, heading to the large back door that stood open, allowing several dozen employees and caterer's entry.

With their heads looking downward, the two entered the building, giving each other one last nod before they went their separate ways. Edward made his way towards what seemed to be the kitchen, where a nest of shouting and yelling kitchen staff greeted him. He ducked behind a large meat locker, shedding his heavy jacket to reveal a now slightly wrinkled tuxedo underneath. He clipped on a bow-tie, and without another word, slipped out of the kitchen and into what seemed to be a large ballroom.

Dozens of wealthy looking people in fancy outfits walked back and forth, filling the air with their chatter. Across the room, atop of what looked like a temporary stage of some kind, was a small orchestra, which filled the room with the lilt of pleasant mid tempo music.

Let's hope they change things up and play something we can dance to, Edward thought. He would have continued on, but was stopped when he felt a hand placed on his right shoulder.

"Um, sir?" Edward turned around and saw who he presumed was the head chef, looking rather confused. "Is there something you need?"

"Yes, actually." Edward noticed a large spread of food off to the side and made his way over to it. "I was just curious as to what you were thinking trying to serve something like this."

"Sir-"

"No, I don't want to hear another word about it." Edward snapped, cutting the man off with a wave of his hand. "Get rid of it all before Focke finds out how badly you screwed up." the chef paled, but began shouting orders as Edward walked off.

It probably wasn't the most productive thing to do, but anything that threw his targets off was just fine in his book.

"Oh hello General! It's been so long!" He chimed, grabbing the hand of a random passer-by and giving it a sharp shake. The General responded with a slightly confused look.

"Uh-er-Same to you?"

Edward simply smiled broadly, theatrically bowing down and turning away-

-and face first into a tall woman.

It took most of Edward's coordination to keep from tripping over his own feet as he stumbled back. Mentally he cursed himself for not paying better attention to his surroundings as he shook his head, smoothing out his tuxedo, hastily apologizing.

"So, sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"Oh please, it's all my fault," Came the lady's response, her voice smooth as silk. Edward looked up at her, his eyes widening at the sight.

She was a tall, raven haired woman with pale white skin, her red lipstick standing out like blood on snow. She was in a sequined purple dress that went all the way up to her neck, and her eyes were half-lidded, and she gazed down at Edward with a palpable sense of attraction.

"I will admit though," she chuckled smoothly, sliding a bang of hair out of her line of vision. "Don't you think you should get to know a girl better before you stick your head in her chest?" she gave him a smolderingly seductive smile, and Edward could have sworn he was beginning to get hot under the collar.

"I-Uh...yeah, yeah of course. It was very rude of me to do so, I apologize." he stammered, running a hand through his hair awkwardly.

"Apology accepted darling," The Lady said, extending a black gloved hand in greeting. "I'm Solaris Bailey. Might I ask who you are?"

Edward shook the hand rather stiffly. "I'm Aaron Dismuke."

"Aaron, hm? A fine name, if I've heard one." Solaris replied, her smile widening slightly. She smoothly lifted a champagne glass off a passing waiter's tray, taking a brief sip from it. "Tell me, Giovanni, what's a handsome fellow like you doing in a place such as this?"

Edward smiled, his confidence returning as he puffed his chest out slightly. "Well, I myself am here on business with Mr. Focke."

Solaris smiled. "Small world. I am here to do business with Mr. Focke as well. I'm an antiques dealer, here to peruse some of our fine host's antiques from my home country."

Edward raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Home country? And where would that be?"

"Ishval. I'm set on opening a museum dedicated to it in Central."

"Really? Doesn't Central already have a museum?"

"Well, there's always room for expanding, isn't there? A businessman of your stature would understand that, wouldn't you?" Solaris gave a small smirk. "And after all, sadly, Amestris is sorely lacking in museums dedicated to foreign lands, and I, being Ishvalan, am at an advantage in procuring such treasures, and bringing their beauty to the world."

Edward nodded. "Makes sense, I'll admit."

Solaris nodded her head, before once more running her eyes over Edward's body. "I feel it's only just that I ask you what you're doing here. I take it you're here for the antiques too?"

"Well, I'm actually-"

"Dismuke? Aaron Dismuke is that you?!"

Solaris and Edward turned in the direction of the voice, and Edward's shoulders sagged somewhat at the sight of Ling, striding over with a big grin on his face. He reached out a hand, grabbing Edward's hand and pumping it sharply, giving him a sharp slap on the shoulder as well.

Edward let out a stifled groan. "Hello…" He trailed off, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"It's me! Mitsubishi! Mitsubishi Nakajima! Remember? From Xing?" Ling replied briskly

Edward paused for a moment, internally kicking himself for not reading Ling's documents before going in. However, he felt Solaris' hand gently come to rest on his shoulder for a moment.

"Excuse me, but who is this?" She asked, arching an eyebrow and giving Ling a critical eye. Ling however, didn't miss a beat, instead giving Solaris a roguish smile.

"I'm very sorry, my dear lady, I failed to introduce myself," he bowed briefly before extending a hand in greeting. "I'm Mitsubishi Nakajima, and I'm a business associate of our mutual friend, Mr. Dismuke."

Solaris glanced towards Edward, who quickly smiled and nodded.

"Of course, how could I forget!" Edward said broadly, grabbing Ling's extended hand and giving it a violent shake. "How are you my friend, how are you?" He then lowered his eyebrows, keeping the smile on his face. "What brings you here? I thought you were busy with important matters of business."

Ling let out a laugh, before shaking his head and looking back at Solaris. "I must apologize Miss-?"

"Bailey, Solaris Bailey." Solaris replied, her expression still critical. Ling gave a nod.

"Miss Bailey, but I sadly must take your friend from you for a moment. We have an important business matter to discuss." As he spoke, Ling discreetly tugged at Edward's arm. Edward glanced down at the arm, before giving him a slight nod.

"Oh, yes, I apologize Solaris, I'll only be a minute." he said, giving Solaris a sympathetic look. Solaris, on the other hand, merely looked miffed, before giving Edward a barely perceptible nod.

"I suppose I can't interfere with your business. Here, take my card..." as she spoke, she leafed through her purse, pulling out a crisp, white printed card and leaning forward to wrap Edward in an unexpectedly intimate half hug, slipping the card into Edward's hand. "Call me anytime." she whispered in a husky voice, causing Edward to feel a wave of warmth flow through him. He took the card dumbly, giving her a slight nod with wide eyes.

"Uh, I, um, will…" he muttered as she smiled and walked away, sashaying in a seductive manner.

Ling's eyes followed her as she walked away, before sliding back to Edward. A sly smile spread across his face and he raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Making time with the ladies I see…"

Edward, who was still somewhat entranced with the mental image Solaris' body movements, blinked briefly as he came back to reality. "What?" he asked, and Ling motioned in the direction Solaris had went. Edward's eyes widened slightly and he started to shake his head.

"What? No, no, no. We were just talking I swear."

Ling merely nodded theatrically, the grin on his face getting bigger by the second. "Whatever you say, pipsqueak."

Edward tensed up, gritting his teeth at the sound of the name. "Don't call me pipsqueak." he growled, crossing his arms in a huff. "Now, is there a real reason why you interrupted my conversation with Ms. Bailey? Or do you just have a supernatural compulsion to annoy me?"

Ling simply shook a finger. "Sadly no. I'm actually here to tell you I found out where our gracious host's office was. He apparently just finished a meeting with someone, and now he's talking with a big Ishvalan dude. They're right over there." he motioned towards the east corner of the ballroom, where, indeed, there was the tall, lean figure of Mr. Focke, and a tall looking Ishvalan, apparently discussing matters of business.

"Where's his office?" Edward asked, keeping his eyes on Mr. Focke. Ling pointed towards a small door on the other end of the ballroom.

"I think it's upstairs. I couldn't get a better look, but see that door?" Ling motioned across the ballroom to an ornate door with the words 'library' embossed in golden lettering above it. "That's where Mr. Focke came out from with the guy he was talking with. Stands to reason that his office somewhere on the other side of the library right?"

Edward nodded "Why don't you check it out then? Follow the hunch?"

Ling shook his head. "I tried, but the guards gave me a funny look when I did so. Anyways, I'd stick out like a sore thumb if I did. At least you're an Amestrian, so they probably wouldn't notice you. I for one, would be spotted in an instant."

Edward looked at Ling flatly, causing Ling to let out a huff of frustration.

"Look, at least this way, one of us can keep an eye on our host," he motioned to Focke again. "While the other does some snooping."

"I'll go check it out then." Edward muttered, turning away from Ling and heading towards the staircase. he wound through the crowd carefully, his eyes occasionally darting to check on any guards who were scattered throughout the crowd of party goers. Apparently, Ling's hunch was right, and none of them seemed to notice him, allowing him to reach the door and open it without a problem.

He quietly slipped into the unexpectedly luxurious library that was on the other side. His footsteps were muffled by the soft carpet, which was a rather eye catching zebra pattern, which stood out in near eye-popping contrast to the blood red walls of the library.

Lining the walls were bookcase after bookcase, and the room stretched upwards a good two stories, books on the second floor accessible by a spiral metal staircase, and by what looked like some sort of small elevator. On the second floor, in the far corner of the room, was a discreet looking door. The library was conspicuously empty however, but various sounds and muffled voices could be heard coming through the walls from the party outside. Edward started towards the staircase, clambering up the stairs briskly.

Let's see what's behind that door, he thought, briefly pausing to glance over his shoulder and back at the entrance to the library. So far, he was still the only person inside. Returning his focus on heading to the newly discovered door, Edward reached for the knob, giving it an experimental jiggle.

Locked, damn it. He reached into his pant pocket, fishing out a small black wallet. He opened it to reveal an array of various lock picks. He pulled one out, leaning down to begin carefully picking the locked door.

"Come on now, cooperate here..."

*click*

A sly grin spread across his face. "Bingo."

He gently eased the door open, giving the library entrance one last cautionary look before slipping past the newly opened door. He found himself in what looked like the second floor foyer, which now had marble floors. Hanging on the walls were various fancy looking paintings, which were complemented by equally elaborate statues and potted plants.

Geez, this guy lives in a palace. Edward thought in wonderment, moving through the room to the otherside. The sounds of the party ebbed from the floor below and up the staircase, the music having changed to a graceful waltz. A brief peak over the banister revealed that everyone was dancing now, which would hopefully give Edward some additional time to continue his search for the office.

Edward crossed his arms, tapping a foot lightly as he scanned the foyer. He started down a hallway, carefully searching for any potential hidden doors or passageways. He passed a simple wooden door with gold lettering on it, at first not paying much heed to it.

Wait a second. He backed up, looking back at the wooden door. His shoulders slumped and eyebrows lowered at the sight of the plainly stenciled text.

"OFFICE"

A quick roll of the eyes and fishing of the lock picks out was followed by another few minutes hunched down, carefully picking the lock. The door popped open, and Edward slipped through, gently closing it behind him.

Focke's office was an almost underwhelming affair, being a simple room with a single bookcase, a large oakwood desk, and a leather backed chair. Sitting on the desk were various assorted trinkets, mostly things like miniature replicas of automobiles or cannons. Edward didn't waste any time moving to open the desk's first drawer, which was lacking a lock. It contained just a few writing implements, such as fountain pens, a few pencils, and an ink well with spare paper. He closed the drawer, moving to the second one, which did have a lock.

He pulled out the lock picking kit, and was just about to start picking it when the sound of a doorknob jiggling caught his ears. His entire body froze in place as the sound of muffled speech started to filter through the walls.

Damnitdamnitdamnitdamnit Edward hastily stuffed the lockpick kit back into his pocket, frantically searching for someplace to hide. The door knob was already starting to turn, so with no other option, Edward dove underneath the desk, curling up his body as compactly as possible.

The sound of the door opening was the first to reach Edward's ears, followed by carpet-muffled footsteps….

/

"So, you wanted to speak with me?" Focke asked, walking over to his high backed leather bound chair and sitting down, leaning back slightly.

"Yes, I did, Mr. Focke," Came the sharp response, the voice coming out as a strange, off-putting mix of male and female.

Focke arched an eyebrow. Sitting in front of him, seemingly impatiently waiting for something, was a rather short, lean looking individual, whose face was an angry grimace, with eyes that seemed to drip with venomous contempt at everything they caught sight of. His hair seemed to match his wild eyes, sprouting off his head in a way not unlike a palm tree, with bangs sticking out at various angles. The only thing seemingly keeping them in check was a black headband, which complimented (in it's own bizarre way), the black, sleeveless tank top and shorts he wore, which left his midriff conspicuously bare. On his arms were a pair of near elbow length fingerless gloves, and his fingers were currently intertwined in a steeple.

"I wasn't lucky enough to get your name?" Focke asked, keeping his eyebrow raised critically. The figure in front of him shook a finger in a condescending manner.

"Tsk, tsk, Mr. Focke. I'm the one asking the questions here."

Focke let out a displeased grunt. "That's awfully bold of you, friend. Considering you're in my home, and my office."

The other man simply scoffed, looking around the room. "Oh please. You wouldn't even be throwing such a disgustingly elaborate party if it weren't for us."

Focke narrowed his eyes. "How so?" he asked coldly, steepling his own fingers and leaning forwards slightly. The androgynous man scoffed again, hopping out of the chair unexpectedly and striding around the room, his bare feet moving silently along the carpet.

"Well, suffice to say that we've had a pronounced interest in your scientific and technological endeavors for quite some time." He ran a finger along a bookshelf as he spoke, as if inspecting it for dust.

Focke raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

The man looked at Focke and smiled unsettlingly wide, his teeth looking more like a set of steak knives. He let out a raspy laugh, looking back at his fingers and rubbing them together gleefully.

"Yes, really. After all, we know your weapon has many, many potential uses, and, well, we just like staying ahead of the curve."

Focke raised his eyebrows. "Oh. Are you a representative of the buyer?"

The man snapped his fingers, spinning on the balls of his feet with a clap of the hands, a broad, dementedly manic grin on his face. "Bingo! We have a winner!"

Focke exhaled sharply. "Why you simply didn't explain yourself from the beginning instead of leading me on this pointless roundabout conversation is a mystery to me."

The other man scooped a random trinket off the desk and sat back in his chair with a pomf. "You humans," he let out a raspy snicker. "Always so inpatient. Don't know how to enjoy themselves."

"I do know how to enjoy myself," Focke replied, leaning back in the chair again. "But now is a time for business, not pleasure."

The other man continued to fiddle with the trinket, but gave an acquiescing nod. "Fair enough." he slapped the trinket back down on the desk with a clack. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together and setting them on the desk. "Down to business then. They wish to know if the weapon is ready for shipment."

Focke simply raised his eyebrow again, nodding his head slightly. "Yes. Yes it is."

The other man grinned the same disturbing grin as before. "Oh, excellent. When can we expect it to arrive in our possession?"

"As soon as your payment is made." Focke replied simply, taking notice of how the strange man's grin faded noticeably. Focke took the opportunity to shake his head slightly. "I'm sorry, but it's a long held policy of mine to only give the product over once I've received payment. That way I know I'm not being swindled."

The other man's eyes narrowed to viper like slits, and he slowly brought his hands back to his lap. "Very well then. Your payment will arrive tomorrow." With that, the man slid up out of the chair, and into a standing position, puffing his chest out slightly.

"Might I ask you a question?" Focke asked, continuing to eye the mysterious man suspiciously. The man looked down at him, his eyes carrying a flicker of disdain.

"What is it?"

"You're not the usual messenger from the buyer. As such, I feel obliged to at least know your name. I feel it's in my best interest that I remain familiar with anyone I'm speaking with." Focke then smiled. "For future reference."

The other man was silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing. A smile spread across his face, but his eyes betrayed vile hatred. "I have many names, my friend, but for now, you may call me…" he paused, bearing his teeth again. "Envy."


End file.
